Circumstance of Passion
by WhatWillBe
Summary: k/s eventually. Kirk and Bones are in a relationship, but Kirk can't come to terms with his sexuality. Meanwhile Spock is slowly accepting his feelings for the Captain.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:**The Circumstance of Passion  
**Rating:**NC-17  
**Summary:**k/s eventually. Kirk and Bones are in a relationship, but Kirk can't come to terms with his sexuality. Meanwhile Spock is slowly accepting his feelings for the Captain.  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own. :(

It's night.

He waits. Waits for the whispers and the heat to come.

He convinces himself he doesn't need it.

Can't want it. Won't want it.

He won't admit that he is waiting, but he is.

Face down, pressed into pillows, sheets pulled up to cover his bare body.

He will deny that he is waiting,

Even as he prepared himself earlier. Even as his hear beats faster in anticipation,

as he hears the door slide open,

and soft footsteps across the floor.

He pretends his breath doesn't hitch when the sheets are pulled back. He shivers as the cold air hits his skin. He can feel eyes roaming his body. A growl penetrates the heavy silence. And then there are harsh hands on his hips, pulling him up.

He complies, but continues to feign sleep. If he does, he can pretend. He can ignore the moan that is building in his throat. He can pretend.

He will pretend.

He will pretend that he is not willing and waiting. He is too exhausted to prevent it from happening.

It is not that he needs this, wants this.

That can't be the reason. He won't allow it to be.

He feels a warm breath in his ear, hears the grunts, makes one of his own. He pretends it didn't happen.

It couldn't have happened, because he is asleep.

He feels the cool, sticky substance dripping between his thighs, and ignores his own in the sheets. He collapses back on the bed, and hears the rustling from behind him. There is a pause. Eyes land on him once more. His heart beats twice before the footsteps move away.

He grips the sheets, and denies.

**  
****Hi guys, I'm knew here and this is my first k/s story. Any critique, comment, or ideas would be appreciated :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Circumstance of Passion  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** k/s eventually. Kirk and Bones are in a relationship, but Kirk can't come to terms with his sexuality. Meanwhile Spock is slowly accepting his feelings for the Captain.  
**Disclaimer:**nope, still don't own.

It is daytime.

Or at least, the time in which Kirk is required to wake. He does, groaning as he feels the soreness in his muscles.

Damn, he really didn't need the reminder.

Rising, he purges all thoughts of any late night activities from his mind. He has grown accustomed to the ritual of shifting his should-be-hazy but distinctly and horrendously clear memories to the dark depths of his conscience. It's practically meditation, and maybe Spock would almost be proud. If the Vulcan felt pride, that is.

With that last thought of his stoic Commander appraising his meditation techniques with a half raised eyebrow (_"Captain, I do believe you are showing signs of logical action, a feat that has a 2.4% chance of occurring..."_) Kirk is able to banish all shameful thoughts and exit his quarters Captain James T. Kirk, not...

Whatever. It didn't matter.

And before any other unwanted thoughts could resurface, Kirk skillfully clamped them down.

* * *

_Alone. _

Loneliness is the worst disease.

It has the power to find any holes in the heart and rip them clean open, filling them with despair that turns into depression, and hate that turns to bitterness.

That's what heartbreak is, after all.

One whole, complete entity shattering into a million, little, empty, lonely, pieces.

And fuck it, what is a man supposed to do in the face of such disaster?

There are really only three options:

Drink, fuck, or die.

The first one comes easily, it's almost second nature.

A relief, really, to feel the burn of alcohol in his throat. It's the promise of escape.

The second option doesn't come until he meets Jim on the shuttle. It wasn't instantaneous. They were strangers, after all. Bonded over a drink and the "I've-got-no-one-else". He watches his friend bed hop while he goes for the bottle. It takes them both longer than necessary to acknowledge their actions as coping mechanisms. Even longer to admit it to each other.

Enter option number two.  
_  
__Shame. _

It's almost as bad as loneliness. Shame is sneakier, sliding in underneath anger and denial. It's subtle, but no less hurtful. It eats at the holes instead, slowly building until it's nothing but a blinding truth.

He's using his best friend.

His best friend is using him.

They both deny it, ignore it, lie about it.

In the morning everything is normal, easy.

At night his shame haunts him relentlessly.

But neither of them stop.

And neither of them are desperate enough to consider option number three.

Fucking wonderful.

**A/N: well this is rather angsty, much more so than I intended. I'm planning on writing some nice fluff after all this is done. **


End file.
